Finding Courage
by reader-writer15
Summary: Just a short story involving Fred Weasley because he doesn't get enough attention


"Come on!" Fred laughed, racing around another corridor in the castle.

Angry shouts from the Slytherins bounced off the walls, along with their pounding footsteps. I paced behind Fred and George Weasley running to the Gryffindor common room. We set off a bunch of Dungbombs at a group of Slytherins while they were bullying some first years. They got what was coming to them.

The adrenaline rushing through my veins and the wind blowing my hair back was the best feeling in the world. I loved playing pranks with the Weasley twins; they were so much fun. But it wasn't just the pranking that was fun, it was the running away that sold me. Fred and George knew how to escape, the pranksters. They really knew how to have fun.

I followed the twins' flaming red heads around corridors and up staircases. The Gryffindor common room was just up ahead. The Slytherins wouldn't be able to catch us.

We approached the picture of the Fat Lady, thundering footsteps just around the corner. I straightened my Gryffindor beanie that almost blew off my head.

"Password?" she yawned.

"Sugar Quill," breathed George. She swung open and we crammed inside the hole, laughing maniacally.

We saw a flash of green and silver approach the hole, but the picture swung shut, blocking them in.

"This isn't over, Weasley!" shouted a muffled voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. He pounded on the picture, causing the Fat Lady to get annoyed.

I turned to Fred and George who shared the same mischievous grins. The turned out their pockets, filled with Dungbombs and assorted items from their Skiving Snackboxes.

"So not over," they smirked.

I turned out my own pockets, revealing more goodies. "Not over, indeed."

I flopped down on the squishy armchair, my feet dangling over the armrest. I put my hands behind my head. The warm fire crackled cozily beside me, and I closed my eyes, reliving the adrenaline rush pulsing through my veins . . . the angry shouts from Slytherins . . . fleeing from the scene as wind whipped through my hair . . .

" _What on earth is wrong with you?"_ a voice snapped.

My best friend, Hermione Granger, stood over my armchair, her arms crossed, her hair a mess. It was obvious that she waited up for me, but that didn't stop her from studying. She clutched two thick volumes to her chest, fuming.

"Oh, give it a rest, Hermione," Fred broke in, stretching out on another armchair. "We were just having fun."

" _Pranking_ is not fun, Fred," she said sharply. "Especially when you have a Potions exam the following day that your best friend _knows_ you haven't been studying for." She glared at me.

I felt ashamed. I was supposed to study with Hermione tonight, but I chose to prank with Fred and George. I left my best friend hanging. She would never do that to me.

"You're right, Hermione," I said, rising from the dorms.

George saluted us, walking off the the boys dorms. "Night, everyone." He winked at me. "Nice job, Casey. Up for another tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I said, smiling. George walked into the shadows and disappeared.

Fred got up from his armchair and ruffled his hair, yawning. Hermione looked impatient. "Meet me in the girls dorms," she said and huffed off.

Fred cocked a grin and punched my shoulder. "Nice job, Hoffman."

I spotted something discolored in Fred's hair and I stood on my tiptoes to take it out. I showed it to him. "You had a piece of cake in your hair from that Slytherin that threw his dessert at you."

"Thanks," he said, his brown eyes glinting with mischief.

He reached out his hand and pulled my beanie over my eyes. "See you tomorrow."

I lifted it up and saw Fred's red hair dissolve into the shadows. As I made my way to the girls dorms, I heard Fred's voice exclaim some not-so-flattering words when he found the Dungbomb I placed in his pocket. I smirked to myself and trudged up the stairs, thinking of the apology I would have make to Hermione.

 _*The next day*_

My eyes snapped open to the sound of a familiar voice and someone shaking me awake. "Hoffman, we have Quidditch practice in fifteen minutes!" said Fred.

I unstuck my cheek from the pages of my book and rubbed my eyes. I was in the library at a table and had apparently fallen asleep on _The Hobbit._ Studying last night for potions really drained my energy.

Instead of packing my books in a hurry and racing to the quidditch pitch, I said something real intelligent like, "Huh?"

"You fell asleep," Fred explained. "Come on, we need you as Chaser."

I closed my book and got up from the table. "Sorry," I said. "I only got two hours of sleep last night, studying for my exam."

Fred and I walked out the library. "How was it?"

"I think it's best not to say," I sighed. I must have looked pretty glum because Fred bumped my shoulder.

"Hey, at least you got quidditch to look forward to," he said. "Ready to watch me score more goals than you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You're _so_ on."

As we walked to the common room, Fred asked me about the book I was reading. I told him it was a Muggle book given to me as a gift from my Muggle parents. I then went into an in depth analysis of the book, comparing characters, contrasting magic, explaining motives, until I stopped talking when I realized Fred was smiling to himself.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I get a little nerdy when it comes to Muggle books. I have about fifty of them on my shelf at home." I silently cursed myself, because admitting that I had that many Muggle books just added on to my nerdiness.

But Fred just kept smiling. "Never really pegged you as the nerdy type though, even when your eyes light up like they do when you talk about books."

I blushed, biting my lip from saying anything stupid or nerdy, even when I wanted to talk about the similarities between Voldemort and Gollum.

I put down my book in my dorm and made my way to the quidditch pitch, still thinking about what Fred had said. Even though I was a Gryffindor, I still felt like a Ravenclaw at heart. I loved to read and analyze books, but I strayed from that side of me when I hung out with the Weasley twins. They helped me break from my nerdy shell and do things outside my comfort zone. I didn't really want anyone to see the nerd side of me, except Hermione who was a nerd at heart.

Suddenly something occurred to me. _Why do I care what the twins think of me?_

Seeing my fellow Quidditch members already flying in the air on their broomsticks, I pushed everything from my mind and ran to the locker room to get my Cleansweep. Soaring into the air, I turned red from embarrassment at Oliver's shouts at my tardiness. I tried to lose myself in the roaring winds.

But my neglect for my classes only came to bite me back when I received a Howler from my Wizard father.

As the post flew in that morning, I was feasting on my waffles, trying to remember the properties of a Mimbulus Mimbletonia. I usually ignored the owl post, because my mom and dad were very busy and scarcely had the time or money to send treats and such. However, a scarlet red letter plopped on my plate, nearly scaring my socks off.

I heard a murmur of unsettlement at the Gryffindor table, as everyone's eyes were glued to the letter. I looked at my mail and almost had a heart attack. _No. Please, no._

But I knew that things would not turn out well if I didn't open it, so with shaking hands, I opened the envelope to meet my humiliation.

My father's voice emanated from the letter, "CASEY CELESTIA HOFFMAN, YOU HAVE DISAPPOINTED US BEYOND COMPARE! YOUR GRADES ARE SUFFERING BECAUSE OF YOUR FOOLISH ACTIVITY WITH THOSE WEASLEYS AND YOUR MOTHER AND I WILL TAKE NO MORE OF IT! YOU ARE NOT TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES UNTIL YOU GET O'S IN ALL OF YOUR CLASSES! YOU ARE NOT TO BE AROUND THOSE WEASLEYS AS LONG AS YOU GET PATHETIC GRADES! JUST KNOW THAT YOUR MOTHER AND I WILL BE INFORMED IF ANY FUNNY BUSINESS OCCURS!"

And with that, the Howler ripped itself up all over my waffles, but I wasn't very hungry anymore. Biting my lip as tears welled in my eyes, I grabbed my satchel and raced out the Great Hall doors, feeling the eyes of every student in the silent hall on me.

I raced to the only place where I could be alone: the girls bathroom. No girls went in there because of that horrible Moaning Myrtle, but at that moment, she was the least of my worries. I was just humiliated in front of all my friends and teachers, and forbidden to participate in Quidditch or to see the twins.

I slammed the door behind me and collapsed to the floor, head in my arms. My shoulders shook as I cried into my sweater sleeves, soaking them. Suddenly I heard the voice of a girl speak to me.

"Ooh, how lovely it is to see a living person cry!" screeched Moaning Myrtle with delight. "Now you know what it felt like to be _me,_ bullied and laughed at!" She chuckled. "That Howler sure was harsh; I heard it from all the way over here, and I'm a ghost!"

Anger burning into my cheeks, I reached into my satchel and threw the first thing I found at the stupid ghost, knowing that it wouldn't do anything to her. I just needed to let my frustration out. The book thudded to the floor and Myrtle shrieked again.

"Been reading Muggle books, have you?" she teased. "Get used to living with them, because you'll probably be expelled soon!"

I didn't respond. No matter how much I wanted to yell, scream, kick, I did nothing. I wouldn't be able to face anyone right now. Even a ghost, a dead person, was teasing me. Imagine what a living person would do! A living Slytherin, most definitely . . .

I knew that my grades were getting lower, but they weren't _that_ low. Not low enough to warrant a Howler, at least. And how did my parents find out? How _would_ they find out if I got bad grades? Would their judgement be enough to kick me out of Quidditch? And the twins . . . what would I say to them? I couldn't hang out with them anymore. Go pranking Slytherins anymore. Have fun with them anymore. I wouldn't be able to see them at all.

I looked to the book I threw, realizing it was _The Hobbit,_ which made me even more depressed. I remembered what Fred had said about my eyes lighting up when I talked about books. More silent tears ran down my cheeks.

What was I going to do?

Just then, I heard a soft knock on the door and raised my head. Who could possibly want to come in?

I didn't answer it, but the knocker opened the door anyway. It was none other than Hermione. I placed my head back in my arms so she couldn't see that I had been crying. I heard her footsteps draw nearer and nearer until she sat right beside me.

She was silent for a few moments, as if thinking about what she needed to say. I wasn't sure what could be said, except the fact that maybe she didn't want to be friends with me anymore.

"I know what you're going to say," I croaked. " 'I told you, Casey. You should have studied more like I told you instead of pranking and staying out late. I told you —'"

"If you thought that I would say that to you, then you're a fool," Hermione broke in with a tone so serious that I had to look up. Her face was stony and solemn, but her eyebrows were furrowed, like she was thinking really hard. "I'm really sorry about that Howler and about . . . well, everything, really."

I couldn't speak, so I just stayed silent. I didn't really feel like having company at the moment. I wanted to just sulk privately. Hermione looked like she was going to say something, but she closed her mouth. Grabbing my hand, she said, "But it will not do you any good to sit here and sulk, Casey. You need to go out there and prove to your parents that they were wrong. Get your grades up. Ace your classes. Show your parents that hanging out with the Weasley twins was not a hindrance to your education. _Prove_ to everyone that you are not pathetic."

I sniffled. I was really grateful that Hermione took me seriously. "I — I'm not sure I can. I can't go out there. I'm an embarrassment to Hogwarts. To the teachers and the staff. And what will I say to the other Gryffindors? I'm a disgrace to the House. And to anyone who ever decided to be my friend."

"That will only be true if you believe in it," Hermione said. "If you keep telling yourself that you can't, then you never will. But if you make an effort, at least, to show everyone that you can be something more, you can be whatever you like. But you need to _try,_ Casey. You won't be able to get your privileges back if you sulk in the bathroom with only _Moaning Myrtle_ for company."

"Hey!" shouted Myrtle.

Hermione shook her head. "Come on," she said holding out her hand. "I'll walk with you."

I took her hand. At least there was _one_ person who would help me. I took a deep breath. "Thanks, Hermione."

She smiled. "Can't be late for Charms."

We went back to the Gryffindor common room, ignoring all the stares, whispers, and jeers from passersby. We entered the room and Hermione let me wash my face and straighten up. I would not go to class like I was a failure. I would get back up again and show everyone that I could do it.

We walked together to charms, comparing History of Magic to Divination. Hermione protested that Divination was a complete waste of time, and while I agreed with her, I reminded myself that I would do well in both classes no matter how boring they were.

Walking into Charms was easily one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. The usual murmurs of students before class began ceased at once when Hermione and I appeared in the doorway. Even Professor Flitwick gave me a sympathetic expression, while the students just stared and whispered. I gulped and Hermione smiled at them, pulling me along by the arm to our seats next to Harry and Ron. They didn't say much, and it was hard to know what they were thinking, but I pushed them out of my mind and focused on our task for the day. We were supposed to practice a certain charm to lift a cushion and place it neatly on a stack on the other side of the room.

Instead of trying to lift the cushion magically like everyone else, Hermione explained that it was more effective to practice the charm itself and the wand movements before performing the actual spell. So I recited the spell over and over and over until the word felt like a normal part of my vocabulary. Then I picked up my wand an practiced the motion from the textbook. No one had success yet in the class, but I felt that Hermione and I were going to make it. After we practiced, Hermione said it was finally time to perform the full spell. I recited the charm and flicked my wand as instructed, and both Hermione's and my cushions floated into the air. I guided it over and placed it down carefully right on top of Hermione's. Professor Flitwick was amazed and awarded Gryffindor twenty points.

I heard many whispers and mutters from my classmates, but I ignored them. This was the same for most of my classes. I just ignored the remarks and followed Hermione's instruction. However, this was particularly hard when it came to Professor Snape's potions and he couldn't wait to bully.

"Seems our little underachiever has been fooling around with the Weasley rats," he snipped, mouth curling into a grin. "Let's see how right her _father_ was."

I felt my cheeks burn, but Hermione kept a cold glare upon the snobby professor. She reassured me that everything would be okay, but Potions was my worst subject. And Snape assigned an especially hard one today, possibly out of spite.

The Pepperup Potion was tricky for me, as I fumbled with the ingredients and almost spilled my cauldron out of anxiety. Snape lurked around me mostly, picking up on everything that I did wrong, which only added on to my nervousness. Hermione was not allowed to help me, so I was completely on my own. However, at the end of class, my potion color was just a little lighter than it was supposed to be, and Snape reluctantly gave me a good grade. I wasn't sure how I earned it, but there was no way Snape could card me on it. I did it all on my own.

Lunch was next, and Hermione suggested that we sit at the end of the table, so as to be away from Fred, George, and their friends. I agreed, for it would be really awkward being near them while not being able to talk to them.

While we were studying History of Magic, a few Slytherins came up to me and insulted me. I would have liked to run away to the library or something, but Hermione suggested that I ignore them and use their rudeness as fuel to prove them wrong.

That seemed to do the trick, because we had double Herbology with the Slytherins, and I was the only person who got the question correct, awarding Gryffindor ten points. The Slytherins grumbled about cheating and whatnot, but Hermione smiled and gave me a high five.

That night, I missed Quidditch practice reluctantly. Hermione kept me company to ease my longing for the sport, which I felt grateful for. We discussed our favorite books, I told her about my favorite Muggle stories, and we even played Wizard chess. Many of the commoners gave me fleeting looks, but I was used to not making eye contact with people over the last few days.

When it started to get late, Hermione suggested we go to bed before the Gryffindors came back from Quidditch. I was longing to talk to Fred and George, but I knew that someone would see and tell a teacher. I wasn't allowed near them as long as I got bad grades. Earn an O in every class and we'd be pranking in no time.

That night, I dreamt that Fred, George, and all the teachers were yelling at me. I couldn't understand what they were saying because they were all talking at once, but all I could see were the two disappointed faces of the Weasley twins, their brown eyes and red hair making me feel guilty. I missed them, but there was nothing I could do to help, for my voice wouldn't work. I crippled with shame, and found myself surrounded by darkness with only the red of the Howler standing out.

I awoke with a start. The moon was shining through my window, casting the room in silvery light. I could still see my friends' disappointed faces looming over me, threatening with shame . . .

I realized I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. I slipped out of bed and padded to the common room, where the fireplace was still lit. I curled up on the couch and gazed into the fire, huddling in my pajamas. Where would I be right now if it weren't for that Howler? Pranking with the twins, or sleeping peacefully. How did my parents control what I could and couldn't do here at Hogwarts? Something didn't seem right to me at the pit of my stomach. Then again, I didn't know all the rules of Hogwarts. Maybe parents did have enough influence to control what their kid did even in a school for magic. But what if your parents were Muggles?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I rested my head on the couch pillow and closed my eyes, feeling comforted by the warmth of the fire. Breathe in, breathe out. It was best not to get too overworked about all this. Just improve your grade and everything will change. I would play Quidditch . . . go to Hogsmeade . . . finish talking about _The Hobbit_ with Fred . . .

When I finally awoke, the fire was extinguished and the morning sun shone brilliantly through the windows. Just by the feel of the day, I could tell it was the weekend. A relief settled over me, no class!

Then my head snapped up. The Quidditch final against Slytherin. And I wouldn't be there. I groaned loudly and stuffed my head in the pillow on the couch, blocking out everything. The whole school practically would be at that match, but I wouldn't go. No, I wouldn't leave this common room, not even for breakfast. I was not going to torture myself by listening to the excitement of the match and attending it myself. If I could only just bury my head in this pillow more and become part of it . . .

"Casey?" asked a voice. I looked up. Hermione was standing before me, decked out in a Gryffindor scarf and hat. "I was thinking —"

"Go to the game," I interrupted. "You helped me a lot, and I appreciate it. Go." Hermione smiled and crawled out the portrait door.

Now I would have to find something else to do until the game was over. I sighed and hugged my knees to my chest. Maybe I can just hit up the library . . .

Something sudden crossed my mind. What if we won? And the whole common room would be decked out, and Fred and George would host it like they always did . . . What would I do then?

 _Stop thinking about them,_ I scolded myself. _It's only going to bother you more if you think about them._

I swallowed the lump in my throat. You can do this. Seriously.

Dressed and ready, I headed for the library, my mind on drowning myself in literature. Maybe that would erase the mess I was in . . .

I grabbed a large stack of books without really looking at them and set them on the table. It seemed that I was the only one in the library (except for Madam Pince) because everyone else was at the match. I tried not to let that bother me.

Time passed. More books stacked up. Some second year Hufflepuffs teased me about catching up on my work, but I ignored them. They were younger than me anyway, so they didn't understand. I thought of the Quidditch match that surely was over now, and the huge party they would have afterward. I thought of all the students and all my friends going to Hogsmeade and how I wouldn't be able to accompany Fred and George to the joke shop . . . I thought of the rumbling in my stomach from missing two meals and how everything in my life seemed unfair.

I noticed that the sun low in the sky and in about ten minutes the constellations I was studying would be out. I made my way to the Astronomy tower, thinking that if a teacher caught me, they would understand what I was going to do.

The night was chilly and the setting was just barely visible behind the horizon. I sat on a ledge and dangled my feet over, taking deep breaths of the fresh air to calm my racing heart. I hadn't seen Hermione all day and I needed someone to talk to. But there was no one. Just me and the sky and the stars shining bright as if telling me not to give up hope on your friends. I would see them again, but it may take a long time.

Suddenly I felt something strange in the pocket of my robes and pulled out a small box of fireworks. I forgot I had them still, from the night I was out late with the twins. I immediately felt my eyes well up. Why was it that I couldn't get them out of my head?

I disassembled the box and threw it in the air, sending red and gold sparks into the murky night sky. It was absolutely beautiful but it gave me a sickening pang of nostalgia. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.

That is, until I heard the Slytherins down on the clearing. Now, Slytherins whispering and sniggering is a normal sight to see, but this group looked especially spiteful. And it was the same group that the twins and I pranked that one night. I peered down from the tower and tried to listen to what they were saying but it was too hard. Where were the Extendable Ears when you needed them . . . ? I was only able to make out a few words.

" . . . send another one?" chuckled one Slytherin. "What should we put in it this time?"

"Maybe we should say she'll get expelled and she'll leave for good!" laughed another.

"Something to freak her out," said Draco. "Get revenge for all those stupid pranks they pulled on us."

The other Slytherins sniggered and they trudged along.

I felt like a rock dropped in my stomach. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't blast their group with _Expelliarmus_ as much as I wanted to. They sent that Howler. They were the cause of my humiliation. They pretended to be my father and gave me fake bans just to get revenge. My fists clenched so tight that I thought they would explode. I was lied to.

But revenge wasn't the answer this time. I unclenched my fists and kicked my dangling legs, imagining one of the Slytherins' faces in the place of the air. No, I wouldn't get revenge. Our rivalry would just continue. What I needed to do was tell a teacher, McGonagall maybe, or even Dumbledore . . .

But I couldn't get up. I stared at the forming constellations in the night sky, spotting Orion, my favorite. He was a fierce hunter, and I wanted to be strong and brave like him. I _was_ in Gryffindor after all. But being strong and brave did not include seeking revenge. Revenge was cowardly, and that's not what I wanted to be. The Slytherins were cowardly, for they played pranks to seek malice, while the twins and I did it for fun. Everyone knew that we did it for fun, but the Slytherins did not like to be seen as weak. They wanted to be powerful, and they thought the way of doing that was to fake my father's voice and send me a Howler banning everything I loved. But I wouldn't let that affect me. I wasn't going to go running to the teachers to have them solve my problems for me. I was fifteen, for crying out loud. No, I needed to deal with this myself.

And I had just the plan.

I raced down the castle, knowing that everyone would be making their way to dinner in the Great Hall. A perfect place to show everyone what cowards the Slytherins were. But first I needed fuel.

I raced to the girls dorms, brushing past all the Gryffindors walking to dinner. I reached into my satchel and found a few boxes of fireworks. After doing a little magic that Fred and George taught me, I managed to make the fireworks explode in exactly the words I wanted them to. It would be perfect. Now all I had to do was find the Slytherin group before they sat at their table in the Great Hall. I needed to catch them at the doors if possible.

Though the hall was buzzing with chattering students, I was able to hear the Slytherins group's voices from a mile away. And just by luck, they were exactly where I wanted them to be. They were picking on a first year right in front of the doors, students streaming around them. I came up behind them.

"Still picking on first years, eh, Malfoy?" I said with a smile. "Needed someone innocent enough to make you feel bigger, I see."

Malfoy spun around, and his cronies swarmed him, scowls on their faces. "Hoffman, surprised to see you here. Better watch out, or another Howler might come for you."

His buddies laughed. I smirked. "No, I'll make sure that doesn't happen anymore."

I tossed Malfoy and his friends a few small silver boxes. With confused looks, they opened them, and with a sudden blast the boxes exploded.

The hall went deadly silent. Everyone gazed upon the blood red fireworks sprouting over the group's head spelling _Liar_ three times. I simply grinned and looked down on them, though I could feel my cheeks reddening with the whole hall's stares on me.

"You sent that Howler impersonating my father," I announced loudly. "You wanted to seek revenge because you thought the pranks we pulled on you were out of malice. But there weren't, and I'm pretty sure everyone knows that. Doing things out of revenge is a sign of cowardice, and only a Slytherin such as yourselves would dare give that impression in front of the whole school." I smirked at their astonished faces. "So am I correct in saying that I have my privileges back?" I asked the teachers. "Since they really never were taken away."

The teachers looked befuddled, but Professor McGonagall rose and gave the Slytherins a sharp glare. "As head of Gryffindor House, I restore _all_ Ms. Hoffman's privileges, and I think most of us can agree that these young men deserve a _rightful_ detention for two weeks."

There was a murmur of assent among the teachers. I looked over at Professor Dumbledore and found him staring right at me, a warm smile spreading to his eyes. He nodded slightly and rose as well. The hall went silent once more and Professor McGonagall sat down. "We have just witnessed an outstanding expression of courage from Ms. Hoffman, who has shown that she is a true Gryffindor by standing up for herself. I award her house, therefore, fifteen extra points for being a model Gryffindor." My table cheered and I saw that all my fellow Gryffindors were all smiling at me. But there was one missing …

I turned around and saw Fred Weasley standing the doorway. He was gaping at me and there was a glint of wonder in his brown eyes. I felt tingly looking at him, for I hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. He walked over toward me and grasped me in his arms. I stayed there, not caring that everyone was watching, just feeling an insurmountable force of bliss. It was all okay. He pulled back and straightened my Gryffindor beanie before pulling it over my eyes. I felt something drop in my pocket, and I pulled my beanie up, seeing him walk over to the table smirking.

I realized later that he had placed a Dungbomb in my pocket and I said to him at the table, "A Dungbomb? That's the best you could do?"

"I'm just getting you back, Hoffman," he joked, and tossed a cake at me.

Later that evening, when I was sure everyone had gone to bed after the twins and I gave some first years Puking Pastilles, I crept up to the Astronomy tower. Mars would be bright tonight, and I wanted to identify more constellations. The wind chilled my cheeks, but I sat at the ledge and gazed upward at the sky. Absentmindedly I twirled my wand in my hand, creating red sparks in the air, thinking about everything I said in the Great Hall. I didn't know I was able to do that, but in the moment, it felt so right.

I pointed out my favorite, Orion, and the orangish ball of light in the sky that I knew to be Mars. I kicked my dangling feet over the edge feeling serenity and freedom course throughout my veins. The adrenaline I felt when being with the twins was great, but I also quite enjoyed the silence around me. It was . . . comforting.

Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me and saw Fred coming. He had the old mischievous glint in his eyes as he sat on the ledge next to me. He didn't say anything but that was fine. Just being with him was enough.

"Where's George?" I asked quietly.

"He's passed out. Drank too much butterbeer, I think. You know how strong that stuff can be."

I nodded, smiling to myself. Sounded like something he would do.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "Never been better. I can play Quidditch again, see my best friends and make mischief, and the best part is, I sold out the Slytherins. Best feeling in the world, I'd say."

"Lucky you," he said. "All _I_ get is to be friends with you."

I crossed my arms and looked at him. "What's wrong with that?"

"Absolutely nothing," he said. He pulled my beanie over my eyes. I was about to protest that he needed to _stop_ doing that when something surprising happened. I was cut off by the pressure of his lips on mine.

Welp, I wasn't expecting that.

I'm not going to pretend that Fred was the coolest guy I'd ever known, and I'm not going to lie that kissing him was the greatest feeling in the world. But I really wasn't expecting it, not even a little. I didn't think he felt that way about me. I didn't think _anyone_ felt that way about me.

Boy, how things changed.

When he pulled away, he pulled my beanie from my eyes and gazed into them. I could see little freckles on the bridge of his nose and the gold flecks around his eyes and I thought I would lose myself in them. The usual playful sense Fred emanated was gone, replaced by a delicate seriousness that I could see in his eyes. What he just did was not a prank. It was not part of a planned joke. It made my stomach flutter. I felt like I should say something but I bit my lip to keep me from saying anything stupid. His gaze was making me blush.

That night on the Astronomy tower, a girl found herself and a boy found the part missing inside of him. Not even a jealous Slytherin could ruin the moment for them.


End file.
